They say:
Let's face it, you don't need this column to tell you how swilltastic Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs' third long-player is. There'll be 1000-word write-ups elsewhere now the rest of the music press has cottoned on to the idea that this is no mere joke band with a sillybilly name, but the real deal playing an unusually warm-hearted and feel-good brand of doomy stoner psych. The basic headlines are these. Viscerals includes yet more - fairly subtle - musical progressions serving to expand the piggy palette further. For opener 'Reducer' the spotlight is on the cosmic lead guitar licks. 'New Body' grinds along antisocially like Swans or perhaps some kind of half-speed Jesus Lizard number. There's a weird almost dubsteppy intermission with some spoken-word vocals involving an extended gastronomic metaphor. There's maybe a thrash influence rearing its head elsewhere and some accessible growl-along choruses here and there. The crucial thing, however, is that the riffs are still heavier than Ray Winstone after a slap-up black pudding breakfast. Riffs, hey? They're important aren't they? WE WILL FIGHT OFF THIS VIRUS WITH RIFFS.*
Read the rest here: The Quietus
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